Rand and Sten's Excellent Adventure
by Aaron D
Summary: Our two heroes have to save Princess Nina from a fate worse than DEATH! Now COMPLETE!
1. One

  


Rand and STen's Excellent Adventure

  
  


by Aaron D. Roberts

  
  
  


_**PART ONE:** In Which Our Heroes Renew Their Acquaintance, And It Is Discovered that One Cannot Attend Certain Social Gatherings If One Does Not Have Wings_

"I can't believe you got me kicked out of Coursair!" Rand shouted, trudging alongside the Highlander down the path out of town. The big ex-farmer, ex-carpenter, ex-prize fighter sloughed some of the mud and tar off his fine satin toga (now ruined). "_ME_! Kicked out of _Coursair_!" 

"Gimme a break," his erstwhile partner muttered, not bothering to even attempt to clean himself. Sten had already given his own outfit up for dead. 

"Do you realize how much pull I have in this city?" Rand's rant continued. "ME! Thrown out on my ear! Kicked out of Cour---" 

"Wouldja shut it!?" the Highlander yelled, sure that if he heard another "me, kicked out of Coursair," he'd have no option but to forcibly pierce Rand's nose with a tennis racket. "How could I have known she was the Elector's wife?" He put his mouth as close as he could reach towards Rand's ear. "_It's not like she was wearing a sign or anything_! In fact, she was hardly wearing anything at all!" 

"Which is no doubt why you assumed she was a prostitute! Great deduction there, champ!" Rand tried to mop some of the sludge off his face with a muddy rag, discovered it was actually just making him dirtier, then threw it away in disgust. "Just answer me this: why would a whore be more likely to know where Nina is than anyone else?" 

"It's part of my method!" Sten protested angrily. "You have to start with one class of people---in this instance, the women of ill repute!" 

"Or more properly put, the wives of all the affluent men in town!" Rand retorted. "No wonder they ran us out on a rail!" 

"THAT'S IT!" Sten leapt on top of the big man's back, locked his legs around Rand's tree trunk of a neck, then began beating his fists down on the other's torso. Rand's own ham fists began thundering blows back up at the lithe simian, not landing as many punches, but making the ones that did connect count. This scene continued for nigh on a half-hour, when Rand, weakly tossing his fist in the general direction of Sten's head, muttered breathlessly, "Had enough?" 

Sten huffed. "Yeah. You?" 

Rand grunted, allowing the Highlander to collapse off his back and slump down to the grass. "Good night," Rand said weakly, falling forward on his face and almost instantly into slumber. 

The next morning, a thoroughly dirt-encrusted pair of world-saving, destiny-defying heroes slowly, determinedly walked northward and away from the violence, shame, and bad feelings of their most recent trip to Coursair and headed toward Wyndia, the land of their missing friend's birth. "So," Rand began, trying to mend the small rift between Sten and himself by bringing up a new subject, "remind where Nina was last seen again." 

"Okay," Sten said amiably. "As I'm sure you know by now, Nina was suffering from some...mental problems, I guess, or at least, that's what I was told." He paused for a moment. "I was never really sure what the cause was."*  
_(*refer to 'Destiny Defied' for details--ADR)_

"Mmm-hmm," Rand prompted. 

"So anyway," Sten continued, "Our good friend (and one super-hot babelicious piece of snaketail, if I say so myself), the sorceress Bleu, took it upon herself to cure Princess Nina of her psychological difficulties, and after some complications of some sort*, Bleu says she was able to cure Nina of her malady."   
_(*see 'Quite Princely'--ADR)_

"I see," Rand saw, though in reality, he wasn't sure. "And where does that leave us?" 

"Well," Sten explained, "it appears that Nina, um...disappeared after her cure was effected. Once she was aware of the situation, Bleu flew to the TownShip to inform us, but unfortunately, I was the only one present at that particular time period." 

"Where's everyone else?" Rand asked. 

"I have no idea," Sten confessed. "I was returning from business at the Highfort when Bleu found me. To sum up, she dropped me off at Coursair to find you, and then the...unpleasantness occurred." 

"Hmph," said Rand, with no desire to revisit last night's adventures. 

It was at this point the two had traversed enough mileage to come upon Lake Wyndia, which, ironically, was not actually connected to the city of Wyndia itself by any concrete means. Sten was the first to suggest a quick bath to make the pair presentable before entering the city might be advisable, and of course Rand, being a sensible Farm Clansman, agreed immediately, cannonballing into the water at his earliest convenience. Sten shielded his eyes from the backsplash and then waded in as well. 

Rand was able to salvage his toga for the most part, but Sten's clothing was completely ruined, and thus he had no choice but to attempt to don Rand's spare outfit, as he had none of his own. This resulted in the Highlander drawing quite a few looks from Wyndian soldiers as the two entered the East Tower which connected the Eastlands to the Wyndian continent. 

"Nice dress," one of the winged guards commented. 

"Shove it," muttered Sten under his breath. 

"What was that?" 

Sten fluttered his eyes, and simpered in falsetto. "I said, 'how'd you like a go at it, you big strong man?'" 

"Forget him," Rand said quickly, dragging Sten away before the soldiers could react, "His mother stepped on his head about thirty times too many when he was a kid." The guard hmmphed noncommittally and resumed his position. 

"Don't antagonize armed soldiers, you idiot!" Rand cuffed his friend on the back of the head. 

"Cut that out!" Sten replied. "It's not like we couldn't've taken them." 

"Yeah, but it doesn't exactly put our best diplomatic foot forward, if you know what I mean." At this point, Sten accidentally bumped into a set of iron bars in front of him, evidently a holding cell. 

"There is a legend," creaked the old woman inside the cell, "of a child with Black Wings which shall be born unto the Royal Family..." 

"Yeah, yeah," Sten interrupted, "we've heard it all before. Unless you happen to know where that Black-Winged girl is right now, just cram it." 

"...and that child shall bring ruin unto all of Wyndia with its..." the old lady droned on. 

"That's what I thought," Sten said, backing off and then continuing back in the opposite direction. "I hate these damn tunnels. I always get lost down here." 

Rand sighed. "You know, if you'd followed me from the start..." 

"Fine, you lead the way." 

Rand and Sten managed good time on the way to the exit of the tower, which led directly into Wyndia Castle, although the big man wasn't sure of how warm their welcome would be. As usual, a phalanx of soldiers surrounded the opening, as it was the only way in or out of the city from the east. 

"Ah, travelers," Rand recognized the familiar tones of Hina, the Queen of Wyndia. "You are quite welcome in our...oh, it's you." Wow. A lot of malice in that tone. 

"Um, Your Majesty..." Rand began, "we were wondering if you had seen your daughter---that is, her Highness, the Princess Nina, lately." 

The Queen looked narrowly at the two companions. "As you well know, I have seen neither of my two daughters since the last time you and your compatriots were at our castle. I truly consider them both lost to me, as is my late husband." 

Rand flushed. "Well, um, we're pretty sure Nina's alive, but, uh, we don't know where she is right now." 

"_Pretty_ sure?" asked the Queen icily. 

Sten stepped in for his partner. "Obviously we're somewhat of a bother to Your Majesty. Since you clearly have heard nothing of Nina's whereabouts, we'll happily be on our way." Sten nudged Rand in the ribs and began edging out of Castle Wyndia toward the drawbridge. With stern gazes from both Hina and the enlisted men of Wyndia's air corps following them, the two all but ran out the front gate. 

"That was fruitful," remarked the mercenary. 

"Right," agreed Rand sarcastically. "So now, of course, our next step is to..." 

"Check all the local pubs for information." Sten finished. 

"That's not what I was going to---" 

"Great idea, Rand. Let's go." 

The first bar on Sten's agenda happened to be named, ironically enough, the White Wings. Sten shoved the flapping doors open quickly, strode though, and ordered Rand and himself both a double shot of dragonwater. 

"Hey, Sten," Rand began, "you realize it's like, just after noon, right?" 

"What's your point?" 

Rand shrugged. "None, I guess." He grabbed his glass of dragonwater and tilted it back, swallowing it in one go. "I'll have another, this one on the rocks." Rand looked around the bar, one of the upscale numbers on the Wyndian scene. "Are we actually going to pump anyone for information or---" 

"No," Sten told him, "I don't think we'll need to. I think the Queen would have noticed if any rumors about Nina had started in the city, don't you?" 

"Yeah, probably." 

"So we'll hang out in a few dives this evening, and if we don't hear anything ourselves, we'll move on to Capitan tomorrow morning." Sten took a sip of his dragonwater, savoring it a bit more than Rand had done his first. "Whaddaya think?" 

"Sounds good to me," Rand said, sipping his second dragonwater slowly. 

The two were perhaps the first in the history of the World to manage to turn a pub crawl into an information-gathering expedition, or at least they thought so. By the time night fell Rand and Sten had visited practically all of Wyndia's taverns, and as they strolled out of the latest one, an odd motion caught Rand's eye. 

"Hey," he said, somewhat inebriated, poking Sten on the shoulder, "lookit that." Every so often, a winged silhouette would appear in front of what Rand took to be a lighted window higher up in the city. 

The thing one had to realize about Wyndia, however, was since the Wing Clan's city was built high upon both sides of a sheer wedge-shaped cliff, when something was "higher," it was meant literally. Of course, this was mainly due to the Wyndians' ability to fly, and only the lower sections of town were easily accessible to outlanders and even those Wyndian citzens that lacked the ability to fly. 

As Rand saw more and more Wyndians entering and exiting from the opening high on the cliff face, he realized that the orifice was in fact not a window at all, but rather a door. "Let's check that out," he said to Sten. 

The Highlander shrugged and followed his companion up the steep streets of the capital city until finally they came to an impasse. "We seem to have reached a dead end," Sten commented. 

"But we're right here," Rand protested, pointing up at the still-lighted opening. They were, indeed, directly under the door, which appeared to be around two storeys higher than the level at which they were standing. "Listen," he added, cocking his head so as to better hear. Sounds of light conversation and laughter escaped from the opening into the night air. "Sounds like a...another pub!" Rand seemed delighted. 

"So how do we get up there?" asked Sten. 

"I don't see any stairs." 

Sten scratched the top of his head. "Are you sure this bar's not..." 

"What?" 

"'For flyers only'?" The Highlander raised his eyebrows. 

"I don't understand," Rand said. 

"What I mean is, maybe we can't get up there because only people with wings are supposed to." 

Rand growled. "That just makes me want to go up there even more." 

Sten was apprehensive. "Look, pal, I hate to be a Gloomy Gus or whatnot, but if they don't want regular people up there, we might get in trouble if we DO go, you know? I don't think it's a good idea." 

"Do you want another drink or not?" Rand asked simply, and then began climbing the sheer rock face with his bare but large hands. 

"When you put it that way..." Sten leapt up and followed the big man, quickly overtaking him. He scrambled over the lip of the ledge which led to the possible pub, then offered his hand to his companion, drunkenly helping him into the doorway. As he and Rand walked in, Sten noticed that, indeed, there were few, in fact, none, without wings there. Inwardly cursing, he led the way to the bar, trying to ignore the two dozens stares directed at him. 

"Two Armadillo Ales," he told the Wyndian bartender, who looked at them cockeyed, then shrugged and filled two pint glasses with the red liquid. The Highlander looked nervously at the winged people surrounding them. He was going to kill Rand if and when they got out of here. 

Rand sipped his beer gently, remembering the days when he used to grow the damned hops they used for the stuff back in Farmland. While the beefy fighter was not usually an angry drunk, the apparent lack of success in his and Sten's search for Nina had left him irritated and grumpy. In fact, he almost wished one of the Wyndian patrons in this particular establishment would start some trouble. 

Sten felt a pressure on his right shoulder. "Excuse me." He turned around and faced a group of eight-to-fifteen Wyndians, all looking a bit displeased. "What can I do for you?" he asked politely. 

"You can get the hell out of here," the one in front said. "We don't want your kind in here." 

"Maybe we'd better go, Rand," Sten told his friend, not noticing the huge grin that spread across the bigger man's lips. 

"What kind is that?" Rand questioned calmly, spinning around in his bar stool. 

"Look," the Wyndian placated, holding his hands in front of him, his courage seemingly drained, "I know you two are soldiers of the Caliph. You're not welcome here. Even if you _had_ wings." 

"What?" Sten asked. 

"I don't know what you're doing in our city, but---" 

Sten spread his hands. "We're not--- 

Rand had taken all he could stand. He struck out, smashing his left fist into the leader's gut, then taking out two men on his left with a punch and side kick. Sten sighed and followed his companion into battle, being careful not to break too many glasses or pieces of furniture---this had kept him from being kicked out of hundreds of drinking establishments---and tried to remember his non-lethal forms. 

Rand and Sten's screams were in harmony as they were thrown out of the front door and fell down two storeys to the hard stone street. "Feel better now?" Sten asked grumpily. 

"Shut up," Rand told him, yelping in pain as he attempted to rise to his feet. "I think it's probably time we went to bed." 

"It was 'probably time' for us to go to bed about--hmm, let me see---about _just before you decided to climb up that goddamn wall_!" 

"Don't be such a crybaby," Rand admonished him. "You're still alive, aren't you?" 

Sten grumbled the rest of the way to the inn. 

"By the way," Rand asked him the next morning as he washed his face, apparently assuming they were still on speaking terms, "who was that Caliph they were talking about, anyway?" 

"Kah-LEEF," Sten corrected, "accent on the second syllable. I don't know who 'the' Caliph is, but 'a' Caliph is some sort of rank they use out in Arad." 

"Where the Desert Clan lives?" 

"Yeah, there. I think it's pretty high up on the ladder--maybe the highest. You see, there was this one campaign the Desert Clan hired our company for. We had been out there anyway after our victory over---" 

"Okay, I don't care THAT much," Rand interrupted, drying his face with a towel. "Let's head out." 

Rand and Sten headed over to the general store, as the Highlander had suggested it might be advisable (and profitable) to sign on as caravan guards for one of the usual trains of sale goods headed toward Capitan. The caravan master they encountered seemed quite thrilled at the opportunity to hire such skilled warriors, or at least, that was what he said. When he offered the lump sum of 1,500 zenny apiece for their services, Sten eyed him suspiciously and took Rand aside. 

"Doesn't that fee seem a little...high to you?" Sten asked. It was only a five-day journey to the other side of the Wyndian continent. 

"Yeah," Rand agreed, rubbing his hands together. 

"No," Sten disagreed, "what I mean is: What's the catch? Something's gotta be bugging that guy for him to offer that much for just regular caravan guards." Sten pointed at the caravan master, who was grinning broadly at them. 

"Maybe there's a shortage," Rand suggested. 

"You could be right," said Sten, "but I smell something funny." 

"Look," Rand said, groaning, "have you heard of anything odd going on out west?" 

"Well, no, but that doesn't mean anything. I haven't been around here for almost two years." 

Rand growled. "We're heading there anyway. We can get paid 1,500 zenny each to go there, or nothing. What do you want to do?" 

"Good point," Sten allowed. 

Of course, the best part of guarding a caravan, no matter where you might be, or where you might be headed, was the fact that instead of walking, one got the privilege of riding the wagons at either the front or back end of the train. Rand and Sten, through the luck of the draw, were positioned at the front end, while three other guards that the caravan master had hired were placed at the rear. The first two days of travel had been uneventful---even Sten had been somewhat mollified after his aroused suspicions, and he lounged lazily, lying back on the bench of the covered wagon, tossing one of his silver blades into the air and catching it repeatedly. Rand sat at the reins, leading the team forward on the road to Capitan, whistling an old farming song he'd been raised with. 

"Look out!" someone yelled. "Monsters!" 

That was the _worst_ part of being a caravan guard. 

The two rushed toward the northern end of the train, espying the two lizardmen and another odd, unidentifiable creature which were advancing threateningly on the goods merchants of the caravan. Sten flung a blade at the odd-looking beast, taking it out of the battle quickly. One of their reptilian foes hefted its shortbow and fired. Rand blocked the arrow with his steel bracers, sending it harmlessly to the grass. Then he wound up and knocked the beast silly with a one-two combination he'd learned in the Games. Sten finished off the second with a quick throat-slash. 

Sten quickly looted the remains of their foes, something Rand had never really developed the stomach for. "Find anything?" 

"Yeah," Sten answered. "A Help Ball." He tossed it to his big companion after retrieving his other knife. 

"Anyone injured?" Rand asked loudly, holding the item up above his head. 'Anyone need medical assistance?" 

The merchants and their respective retinues all responded in the negative, so Rand pocketed the Help Ball and continued to the forefront of the caravan. The two re-boarded the lead wagon, and with a shout of "Move 'em out!" Rand snapped the reins and began forward progress once again. 

About fifteen miles out of Capitan, the caravan encountered a blockade of some sort. What appeared to be a company of around thirty magenta-uniformed soldiers were waiting in the roadway. Rand looked at his partner, who just spread his hands. 

"Howdy there," he said as they approached the blockade. "What's up?" 

"Please hold for inspection," said the man Sten took for company commander. He eyed the two with a nervous air as his soldiers began looking through the back of every wagon. Sten heard some of the merchants complaining as their goods were knocked astray. 

"Who are you guys, anyway?" he asked. 

The captain stood straight. "Honor guard for the Caliph of Capitan." Relaxing a bit, he explained, "We have standing orders to inspect all travelers entering this region." 

Rand looked at Sten with a raised eyebrow. Now they knew who the Caliph was. "I was under the impression that Capitan was under the rule of the Queen of Wyndia." 

The soldier's eyes darkened a bit. "That may have once been true, but our new lord seceded from Wyndian rule some time ago." 

"I've heard little of this new Caliph," Sten said. "I would know more of him." 

From what the officer told the two, the Caliph of Capitan had single-handedly revitalized the economy of the shipbuilding industry of the city, then turned his attention to other political goals, including independence for its citizens. He then raised an army from the city and surrounding fishing and farming villages to protect its "borders", throwing out the Wyndian consulate which administered laws in the westernmost city on the continent. 

Sten became more apprehensive as the tale went on. He excused himself and tracked backwards along the caravan line until he found the inspectors. The ex-mercenary noted that while the soldiers weren't being very solicitous of the merchants' wares, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be occuring. He wondered what he'd have to do if the soldiers actually found some contraband. 

Luckily, the inspection team, whose magenta uniforms actually bore a marked similarity to Rand's usual choice of attire, found nothing to complain about within any of the caravan's wagons, and they were allowed to move on within the hour. 

"I think," Sten told Rand as they rode on towards the newly-free city of Capitan, "I've figured out why those Wyndians were so angry at us the other night." 

"Yeah," Rand said. "Those soldiers outfits look just like mine." 

Sten snorted. "You'd think they'd have noticed my 'uniform' was three times to big for me." 

"Not to mention it looked like a dress." 

"Don't start." 

Rand laughed. "I don't think that---" He stopped as Capitan came into view. To say that the city's size had increased would be an understatement. Areawise, the city had expanded almost fourfold, and Rand figured that meant the city's population might be over ten times the amount of people that had been living there upon his last visit. The growth was almost unnatural. Rand allowed for some of it, being that carpentry was the primary vocation of the majority of Capitaners, but it would seem impossible that the city could have grown that much. 

"Whoa," commented Sten, pointing at what was by far the most prominent structure in the city, a huge, Arad-style palace. Gold minarets and spires decorated the large building, which was nearly larger than Castle Wyndia. "Guess whose house that is?" 

"Well, it ain't mine," Rand said sarcastically. 

The two accompanied the caravan master to the general store, which was in the old part of the city that Rand and Sten had both visited before. After receiving their pay, the companions moseyed on down to the inn to arrange their accomodations for the night. 

"Say," Rand asked the innkeeper, just out of habit, "you haven't seen a girl with black wings hanging around here, have you?" 

"Black wings?" she repeated. "Well, obviously one of the Caliph's wives has black wings, but other than that..." 

The statement was made so matter-of-factly that its impact didn't register on Rand at first. Then he did a double-take. "His _wife_?!!!" 

"What's going on?" Sten asked, bringing their packs inside. 

"She says the Caliph's wife has black wings!" 

"His _**what**_?" 

"What're we gonna do now?" 

Sten thought. "I'm not sure," he admitted, "but I know what we need to do _first_..." 

"Right," Rand said, turning to the innkeeper once more. "We'll have two double-dragonwaters." 

"We need to keep our wits about us Rand," said Sten. "We've got plans to make." 

"Better make that two beers," Rand corrected.   
  
  


_ END PART ONE_   
  


  
  



	2. Two

  


Rand and Sten's Excellent Adventure

  
  


by Aaron D. Roberts

**_PART TWO:_**In Which Our Heroes Discover that Things May Not be Always as they Seem, and the Importance of Planning an Escape Route in Advance 

Sten ducked around the corner. "Still there!" he hissed. 

Rand was too busy trying to keep the cloth wound around his face, to avoid exposing his visage to the torchlight that flooded through the Caliph's palace, to even notice. "Mmm mmph," he mumbled. Both warriors were dressed in the magenta robes of the Caliph's house guards. Sten adjusted his turban, thankful he wasn't having one-quarter the difficulty his big friend was with the outfit. 

He peeked around the corner once more. The REAL guards had finally left, presumably on their rounds or some such nonsense. "Let's go," he said, waving to Rand, hoping that his companion would at least hear him if not see the gesture. For the fifteenth time since their infiltration, he wondered if the search they had embarked on was worth the trouble. He and Rand had checked out the taverns in Capitan, their usual method of information-gathering, once they'd heard the rumor that the Caliph's newest wife had black wings. The rumor had been confirmed, numerous times. 

They'd both only heard of one woman, ever, with black wings. 

The hard part was, the Caliph's palace was big. Damned big. They'd spent almost four hours putting around it so far, and they haven't even found a single woman yet, let alone Nina. Sten tiptoed up the hall, though he might as well not have, with all the noise Rand was making. 

"Shhh!" Sten crept up next to the door and checked if it was locked. Cursing, he brought out his lockpicks. "You know," he muttered, fiddling with the latch, "contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a professional thief. It's beneath my dignity to perform gauche acts such as this." 

Rand snickered. "Beneath your dignity, but not beneath your abilities." 

"Cram it," he replied as he heard the _snick_ of the tumbler falling into place. He edged the wooden portal open, unsure of what might be inside. 

Rand and Sten snuck into the new room, which luckily, happened to be empty, and took survey of their surroundings. "Looks like some sort of office," said Rand, peeking at the golden-oak desk and three-tiered bookshelves. He and Sten entered the cozy room, Sten locking the door behind them in case of any other guards that might happen by. 

"Oooh, a treasure box!" Sten said. "It's locked!" he exclaimed after a second. 

Rand chuckled. "You'd better open it," he told him. "Just to make sure you still can." 

"Way ahead of you," Sten said, already at work on the latch. "Heh!" He held up an oblong, lumpy rod, turquoise in color, with light green disks capping each end. 

"What's that?" Rand asked. 

"No idea," Sten confessed, "but we can have it appraised after our...business here is complete." He pocketed the odd item. 

Rand grunted, peering over the desktop. "Whaddaya make of this?" A map of the entire castle was spread out over the desk. 

Sten took the sight in, more well-experienced in reading diagrams of this sort due to his years of military action. "I think I've got it figured out. This area here," he said, pointing to a room in the upper-west corner of the third floor (out of five), "is where we currently are." He traced his finger along to a cluster of rooms on the fifth floor. "From looking at the layout, this area looks like it's most likely the harem. It's the most easily defensible area for the...ahem...valuables." 

"Huh?" 

"In Arad, a harem is where a ruler or powerful man keeps all his wives." 

"_All_ his wives?" 

"Yeah," Sten replied. "The more powerful a man is, the more wives he has." He pondered it for a minute. "A Caliph might have as many as a hundred wives, I think." 

"So _that's_ where they all are," Rand mused. 

Now it was Sten's turn to say, "Huh?" 

"If he's got a hundred wives, that doesn't leave a whole lot of women for me," Rand explained. "That's why I've been striking out so much lately." 

Sten merely raised an eyebrow and walked out of the room, saying nothing. 

The two climbed the side staircase, secure in the likelihood of fewer soldiers manning this route than the center one. Sten and Rand were forced to hide behind a corner once more as they neared where they suspected the harem lay. 

"Ah, to hell with it," Sten muttered, and led Rand in a swift charge on the four masked guards which manned the door. The Highlander tossed a handful of knockout powder into one guard's face, then quickly repeated the action with another. Rand, meanwhile, lifted one of the remaining two guards over his head, twirled him about, and hurled him into the next one. Then, just for good measure, coldcocked each of them once more. The two dragged the limp bodies toward the massive arched window on the east end of the hall, concealing them behind the heavy drapes. 

"Okay," Sten said, moving slowly toward the door, "here we go." The door was unlocked, as apparently no one had imagined the quartet of guards could be so easily overtaken. He and Rand entered cautiously, neither one knowing what to expect. 

Dozens of veiled faces greeted them. The ladies seemed to be taken aback by the new visitors, although Sten reasoned they wouldn't be too surprised to see a pair of guards, even if they did barge in unannounced. 

"What do we do now?" Rand whispered. 

Sten paused in thought for a moment. "Follow my lead," he told his friend, turning to face the shapely women. 

"The Caliph calls for his new bride," Sten called in a deep voice. "She of the black wings." 

One of the Caliph's wives, an older woman, nodded and left the cushioned room. Moments later, she returned with another masked woman, this one with black wings. 

At first glance, it appeared to be Nina. Sten could not see her face, but he thought he recognized the tint of her eyes, and knew the shape of her body was familiar (something he had studied at great length). Her hair was the right color, but it had evidently grown, for it was four or five inches longer than the last time he had seen the princess. 

Sten gave his thanks to the older wife with a nod, then took the winged girl's elbow. Rand quickly followed suit and the two led her out of the wife's quarters. Sten rushed over to the stairwell, then dragged the girl and Rand down two floors, towards the map room they had previously been in. 

"Nina, it's us," Rand said as Sten closed and locked the door. He unwrapped the magenta cloth from round his face, noticing that Sten did the same. "Nina" did not react, staring blankly in the big man's direction. 

"Nina?"Sten called, waving his hand in front of her eyes. 

"Maybe it's not her," Rand suggested. 

"Let's find out," Sten replied, reaching for her veils. The Highlanders' lithe fingers whisked the silken cloth off swift as an autumn breeze, and Nina's face was bared to the world. Or at least, to the room. 

And there was no doubt that it was, indeed, Nina. Her face was even paler, if that was possible, and the emerald eyes which had expressed so much pain over the course of their earlier friendship seemed even more melancholy. 

"Hon?" Sten asked, staring quizzically at her. "You okay?" 

"Don't you recognize us?" Rand chimed in. It would seem not to have been so, as Nina did nothing, save continue staring at a map on the wall, unseeing. 

"She must be under a geas," Rand guessed. 

"_Duh_," said Sten, "but, honestly, there's nothing I can see. My arcane knowledge _is_ somewhat limited. We'd better take her to Bleu. She'll know what to do." 

"Yeah," Rand said, somewhat distracted. "But what'll we---" _BAM BAM BAM!!_

"_Who's in there?!_" A voice called from the other side of the door. 

Sten and Rand looked at each other. "The window!" they shouted together. Both leapt for the opposite corner of the room, Rand taking Nina along with him. Unfortunately, both had made a slight miscalculation, as there was no window to speak of in the office. 

"One would think," Rand observed, "that we would have noticed this the last time we were in this particular room." 

"Well, we had a lot of things on our minds," Sten protested. Both men stopped, each trying to think of a solution. 

"I can only think of one way out," said Rand. 

"Me too," answered the Highlander, "but we should wait for them to break in, don'tcha think?" 

Rand nodded, and the two assumed ready stances. After five or six more impacts, the door splintered. Two later, and it shattered. Not surprisingly, the guards were unprepared for an immediate assault upon their personages. 

"A pity Nina's not in fighting shape," Sten commented as he stabbed one soldier in the gut, "her skills would most likely come in handy right now." 

"Aah," Rand replied mockingly. "It's not like these guys are actually worth expending her energy." He sucker-punched one guard, backhanding another in the face. "We could handle three times as many as this and still not break a sweat." 

"Point taken," Sten said, finishing off three more with a weave of magical fire. 

Rand picked up Nina and followed Sten through what the mercenary had determined was the fastest route through the palace, although Rand personally doubted they would escape without notice---there had been more than a few guards who had fled for reinforcements during their previous skirmish. 

"Wait!" Sten called as Rand anticipated a turn in the hallway. "Don't go that way. They'll expect us to go out the front door." 

Rand wiped the sweat off his brow. "All right, so where do we go from here, O Wise One?" 

"Easy," Sten responded, pointing towards one of the wide, ceiling-to-floor windows which were present throughout the decadent palace. 

"Oh, God," Rand swore. 

Shards and particles of glass flowed outward and downward as the two heroes and one passenger leapt out of the Caliph's palace. Rand took it for granted that Nina wouldn't think to use her wings to slow their descent, but he was incorrect. The black wings flowed outward---perhaps it was a reflex, perhaps not---and Rand shifted his arms, looping them around Nina's waist, so as not to disturb her sense of balance. AFter a few seconds, the Farm Clansman regained his footing on the cobbled street, gently lowering Nina to the ground as well. He sighed, thankful that Nina was able to support his weight in mid-air, something he had thought was doubtful. Looking around, he saw Sten facedown on the paved stones. 

"C'mon," he said, lifting the Highlander up by the collar of his red robes, "we've gotta keep moving." Rand, being the only member of the party currently in total command of his senses, all but carried the others with him as he ran down the main thoroughfare of Capitan. 

"Aha!" he cried, spying a means of transportation for them all. He threw Sten in the back of an empty buckboard, then gently placed Nina in the passenger's seat, clambering up on the left side himself. He whipped the reins, and the two horses attached to the wagon took off downhill. 

The breeze was invigorating. "Hah!" Rand urged the animals faster, trying to find a road going west. Rand had noticed the older section of the town, the one he was familiar with, was located in the northwestern section of the town. He figured they must be getting closer now. The wagon hit a gaping pothole in the street, jolting Rand and sending Nina flopping backwards over the back of the seat and into the empty cargo area of the buckboard. 

"Hey!" Sten called from the back, his face peeking over the edge. "Watch those bumps!" 

"Sorry," Rand said, focusing his attention on his driving. "See anyone following us?" 

"No---wait, maybe," Sten replied, shading his eyes with his palm. He faced forward. Three mounted guardsmen were trailing them, some distance off. "Better keep moving; we might be able to lose them." 

"Got it." Rand followed the left fork in the road, encouraged by the face that his surroundings were starting to seem familiar. Checking the road farther ahead, he thought he spied an inn they had patronized on a previous visit to the city. 

"Sten!"Nina shouted. Both men turned to stare at the princess, mouths agape. She had cocked her head at a sharp angle, and was staring at her rescuers quizzically. "Is it Sten?" she asked. 

"What?" Rand said. 

"Watch the road!" Sten screamed, pointing towards the front of the wagon. Rand shame-facedly turned his eyes back frontwards, remembering the plan he had formulated earlier. 

"Hey, Sten," he hollered, "do you see 'em?" 

"No," the Highlander answered. 

"All right." Rand brought the wagon to a halt and signaled for Sten and Nina to get out. After Sten guided the princess slowly out of the buckboard, Rand clapped both mounts on their rear ends, causing them to speed off. 

"What now?" asked Sten. 

"I'm tuckered out," said Rand, indicating the inn they were now near. "Let's take a break, maybe spend the night." 

"Wait," Sten cautioned, removing his magenta cloak and throwing it over Nina's shoulders, effectively concealing her wings. Both men removed the masks covering their faces, Rand tossing them in a pile of refuse. The three hurried into the building. 

"We'll take a room," Rand ordered as they walked up toward the front desk. He remembered the shabby wooden table and chairs from the last night he and Ryu had spent there. Nothing seemed to have changed much. 

"I'll need your names," the innkeeper replied, her long hair billowing around her sad eyes. 

"Sure," Rand replied. "Rand Marks, um, Yua Bateson, and Sten..." Rand paused for a moment. "Sten, what's your last name?" 

"Sten _is_ my last name," Sten bristled. 

"Alright, then what's your _first_ name?" 

Sten remained stoically silent. 

Rand shrugged, then returned his attention to the woman at the desk. "Just 'Sten', then." 

"By the way," Sten interjected, directing his words toward the innkeeper, "Did you hear about those four brigands that escaped from the palace?" 

"No," said the innkeeper, "what happened?" 

"Well," Sten began, throwing a silencing glare in Rand's direction, "I heard they stole gold from the Caliph's treasure room, though I don't know how much. I just saw them, I did. They flew by in a stolen wagon, each with eight sacks of stolen gold, and each dressed in the livery of the Caliph's own soldiers." 

"Truly?" asked the innkeeper. 

Sten winked. "As true as St. Eva's blessing." 

With that, the woman showed the three up to their room. It wasn't anything special, a two-tier bunk accompanying a one-person bed, which accompanied a table for personal effects. Rand and Sten each placed their knapsacks down in the far south corner of the room, while Nina, undirected, sat down quietly upon the lone bed. 

A few quiet moments passed, at the end of which a very irritated Rand Marks had quite a few words to share with Sten. "What the hell were you telling her about back there?" 

"I was just laying a false trail to lead any soldiers away from us," Sten protested. "What was the deal with signing us in under our real names?" 

Rand grunted angrily. "Apparently, I'm the only one registered under my real name! I put Nina down as Ryu's sister, and I don't even _know_ your first name! So why are you complaining?" 

This brought their attention back to the silent princess within their midst. Nina sat silently on her lone bunk, saying nothing, staring at the floor. "I thought she recognized me out there for a minute," Sten said. 

"Yeah," Rand agreed, "she said your name twice." He looked intently at the winged girl. "Nina," he asked, "don't you know us? Not even now?" 

Nina looked up, responding to his softly-voiced plaint. Her eyes seemed full of questions. "Are you...Rand?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he agreed. 

"And who am I?" asked Sten. 

Nina puzzled it over for a second, then answered, "Jean?" 

"No," Sten sighed, slapping his palm over his forehead.   


_**END PART TWO**_   
  



	3. Three

  


Rand and Sten's Excellent Adventure

  
  


by Aaron D. Roberts

  


_**PART THREE:** In Which Our Heroes Return Home, Thoroughly Convinced of Their Superiority_  


Rand stretched, his long, muscular arms casting shadows upon the ground in the orange morning sun. Rapping on the dirty, water-warped door, Rand called out, "It's morning. Wake up!" as he walked back inside. 

Two groans answered Rand's call through from the small, spartan hut, halfway between the cities of Capitan and Windia, once part of the same nation a mere thirty months previous. All three had visited the hut before, when its inhabitants were murdered by a demon posing as a young girl. Rand started a fire in the iron stove, then put a pot of coffee on to brew, using the last of the grounds they'd brought with them from Capitan. 

"Coffee ready yet?" Sten grunted from the upper bunk. 

"Almost," Rand answered, jostling the coffeepot. "Coffee?" Nina asked from the middle berth. Oddly, she'd developed a taste for the black brew within the last week the three had been traveling together, though Rand and Sten both had understood her to dislike it through their previous association. 

Rand helped the Wyndian out of her bed, then poured her a cup. Sighing, he prepared a second cup for himself, drinking the black java, sipping it quickly to avoid burning his tongue. "Do you know how we're going to get back to the Township yet?" 

"Fungh," Sten mumbled into his pillow. "ll'figure sumpin' out.' 

"Well, we can't go through Wyndia," said Rand. 

Nina looked puzzled. "Why not?" 

"Because your mother would string us up," Rand answered. "She thinks we're responsible for what's happened to you." 

Nina took another sip. "And are you?" 

"What? You mean are we responsible?" Nina nodded. "No, we're not---at least, I don't think so. When I saw you last, you were pretty much fine, although you may have been acting a bit weird. Sten hadn't seen you since even before that." Nina had lost most of her memory because of the geas that had been placed upon her, though neither of her friends had enough knowledge of spellwork to determine what exactly was wrong with her mind. The exiled princess had been experiencing flashes of memory from her previous life, although it had taken her three days before she could tell Sten and Rand apart. 

Sten groaned. "Lemme sleep. She'kn summon th' Great Bird later." 

Rand dropped his mug, which, fortunately, was made of iron and did not shatter. "The Great Bird?" 

"What's the Great Bird?" asked Nina. 

"You mean you don't remember?" 

"No," she admitted. 

Rand sighed. "Let's go outside." 

The wind whistled in the distance as Rand and Nina stood on the plains, perhaps half a mile south of the cabin. The Farm Clansman had wanted to have plenty of room for the Bird to set down if and when it appeared. "All of your people once had the ability to transform into the Great Bird at will," Rand explained. It was really quite ironic, as Nina had originally explained this phenomenon to him and the others almost three years ago. "Due to interbreeding with other races, however, your ancestral powers have weakened. Only one Wyndian per generation now can become the Great Bird, and the transformation is permanent." 

This was as far as Rand could go before revealing any personally painful information, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Nina likely didn't have any memory of what had happened, and he hoped to spare her as much grief as he could. "I don't know how you summoned the Bird," he admitted, "but it seemed to be an internal process. Maybe you should just think of big birds, or your clan, or something." 

Nina shrugged, and closed her eyes, lifting her face up to the wind. Nothing happened. "Try again," Rand urged. Once again, the results were negative. 

"Alright," Rand said slowly. "There's one more thing I haven't---" 

"Look!" Nina shouted, pointing to the west. Over a dozen hooded figures appeared on the horizon, figures in magenta uniforms, no doubt soldiers of the Caliph of Capitan. "Rand! What should we do?" 

"Do you remember any of your battle magicks?" he asked, cursing himself for not forseeing this possibility. 

"I don't think so," she replied, backing up a few steps. "Nothing that will help, anyway, though I do seem to remember a way to make anything made out of porcelain grow fur." 

"I suppose that _won't_ help in this instance, unless their swords are made out of porcelain," Rand said. "I think I can cover this." Raising his palm, he concentrated, then stomped his foot onto the grass. The ridge upon which the soldiers were standing began to shudder, then convulse violently, knocking several of them to the ground. "Nope," Rand growled. "Didn't get 'em all." 

One of the soldiers waved his hand in the air, a gesture Rand recognized. "Oh, no," he gasped, clutching Nina as she collapsed, then swore lightly as he himself lost consciousness. "I...really...hate...these...guys." 

*** 

Sten awoke groggily, sometime after noon, he suspected. He wasn't usually such a late riser, but Rand and he had run out of dragonwater two nights ago, and not drinking made Sten tired. He rolled out of bed, forgetting that he was on the top bunk and crashing noisily to the floor. Groaning, he gently raised himself to his feet, surprised that Rand hadn't let fly with a sharp remark yet. 

Where the hell was Rand, anyway? And Nina seemed to be missing also. Hmmm. Scratching his back, he yawned and walked out front, munching on an owlfruit he'd harvested from the orchard. "Rand!!" he called. "Nina!" Nothing, but their gear was still inside. Sten peered around the area, using his trained military eye. Interestingly, one section of the nearby hills seemed to be...demolished, somehow. There also seemed to be quite a few footprints around as well. 

It was unlikely Nina and Rand would simply leave him here alone. From the available evidence, Sten inferred that the two had been involved in some sort of battle, with either Rand or one of the enemy utilizing a earth-based magical weave. It would also seem that his friends had lost, then been carried away. 

Groaning inwardly, the Highlander rounded up the provisions he'd need for his trip, hid the rest of the gear in the cabin, then set out west, following the footprints he found near the battle site. By nightfall he had located the camp, sneaking up stealthfully and avoiding the flickering light of the campfire. As Sten had suspected, soldiers of the Caliph were the ones who'd abducted his friends. 

Darting between the soldiers' tents, Sten selected one at random and slithered in under its flap. It was empty, save for a few bedrolls and a small box, which Sten opened. The Highlander retrieved a small ring, possibly valuable, but too small to fit on his long fingers. 

Sten snuck out and crept into another tent. "Aha!" Nina was bound, unconscious on the ground. Silently, he untied the ropes 'round her wrists and ankles, trying not to enjoy himself _too_ much, then he patted Nina gently on her left cheek, calling her name softly. He shushed her as she woke up. "Do you know where Rand is?" he asked. 

Nina shook her head groggily. 

"All right," Sten whispered. "I've got an idea." 

*** 

The Caliph's soldiers were cooking a small ham over the campfire when Sten's plan took effect. A veiled female form began dancing in front of them, taking their attention away from the food. Several of the soldiers whistled sharply as the dancer twirled this way and that, shaking suggestively. 

The soldiers were so distracted that they didn't notice a slight figure darting among the remaining tents. This spectacle, unfortunately, lasted only a few short minutes, as one of the owlfruits tucked within the the bodice of Sten's robes fell out, clunking on the flat ground. 

"Hey!" one of the soldiers growled. "That ain't no woman!" 

"Uh....tennis, anyone?" Sten asked weakly, then dashed off behind the tents. 

Meanwhile, Nina had found her larger companion, hog-tied and unconscious within another of the numerous magenta tents. With great difficulty, the winged princess freed the Farm Clansman, then gently roused him. 

"What's going on?" Rand asked, rubbing his eyes. 

"We've been captured," Nina told him. "We should get out of here, fast, before they catch Sten." 

Rand nodded, and followed her out of the tent, both looking around for any threat. Only one guard was left, and he had evidently not noticed our heroes escape as of yet. Rand snuck up, or at least, as best he could, then punched the soldier harshly in the temple. The Caliph's soldier collapsed. Rand searched him for valuables, pocketing the gold fifty-zenny coins he found in his adversary's purse. 

"Let's go," Nina called softly, pulling at Rand's right arm. 

"All right," he agreed, following her to the west of the camp. "What about Sten?" 

"I hope he'll come back to find us," she said, a hint of doubt in her dulcet tones. 

Rand grunted and crouched down, motioning for Nina to do the same. "We'll wait for him here. He came to save us; we're not going to leave him behind." 

Reluctantly, the amnesiac Wyndian princess nodded. Suddenly, a half-robed figure dashed past, perhaps only twenty yards in front of the two, pursued by a group of the Caliph's fighting men. Reacting swiftly, Rand concetrated, holding his right hand, palm outward, in front of his face, while simultaneously clenching the left into a fist. Three lightning bolts struck amongst the soldiers, hitting one directly on the cranium and grazing another three. 

"Hey!" one of them cried, and his remaining companions followed his lead toward the two freed prisoners. Perhaps it was divine intervention, though all three of the companions were unlikely to believe in such after their previous adventures, but it happened to be at this moment that some of Nina's magical abilities chose to reassert themselves within the princess's mind. She easily cast another lighting weave, even more powerful than Rand's, which shocked the remaining foes, all of which crumpled to the ground. 

"What happened?" Rand asked her. 

"I remembered one of my battle magicks," she said. "I think your spell jogged some of my memory." 

"I guess that's a good thing," Rand said. "But what about Sten?" 

"I'm fine!" The two heard the Highlander's high-pitched voice from a distance. The half-dressed ex-merecenary ambled awkwardly towards the his friends. "Good to see you," he said. 

"Is that an Owlfruit in your bodice," Rand asked, "or are you just happy to see me?" 

"Shut up," Sten snapped, removing the second Owlfruit from his clothing, then chucking the magenta dress he'd used to trick the Caliph's soldiers onto the ground. Clad only in denim trousers, the hairy Highlander cast a glaring eye at his large friend. "I didn't do this for fun, you know." 

"Of course not," Rand sarcastically agreed. "You only cross-dress for fun on Thursdays." 

"Shut up!" Sten bristled. 

Nina, at this point, had tolerated more than enough jocularity. "Stop it!" she ordered. "Let's just get out of here." 

Sten looked around at the dead or unconscious soldiers. "You know, now would be a good time to summon the Great Bird." 

Nina's eyes darkened. "I can't," she admitted. 

"Wait," Rand said softly. "There's something I haven't told you." 

"What?" Nina asked after a moment's silence. 

Rand hesitated. "What I haven't told you is..." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Um...the Great Bird, well, before she transformed, she was...your sister, Mina, the younger Princess." 

Nina's eyes showed nothing but confusion. "What?" 

"That's why I didn't want to tell you," Rand admitted. "I hoped you wouldn't have to remember. We've got to get out of here, though. Maybe this will help you summon the Great Bird." 

Nina concentrated. "It's still not working," she said after a couple of minutes. 

Rand looked at Sten for help. The Highlander did nothing but shrug cluelessly. "All right," the big man said, "try to think of the most melacholy emotions that you're able. Those might help. Every time you called the Great Bird, I could sense the grief within you. Perhaps that was the key to summoning her." 

Nina had no memory of her sister, or much of anything else. The only melancholy thought she could come up with was losing Rand and Sten. Then she'd be alone again. Nothing was worse than that. 

"There it is!" Sten cried, pointing at the feathery shape zooming down from the sky. 

"You all right?" Rand asked. 

"Sure," Nina replied, eyes downcast. 

After they had ridden the Bird back to the TownShip, all of the three were in a more jovial mood, considering they had just fled the forces of a feared dictator, not to mention pilfering his favorite wife out from under his nose. 

Nero smiled as they entered the house. "Hey guys, good to see you," he said simply, as though they'd only gone out for a shopping expedition. 

"Let's have a celebratory drink, my man," Sten said. "Dragonwater all around!" Nero poured four tumblers full of the pungent liquor, setting them on the table. Nina grabbed hers and tossed it back, swallowing the entire serving in one gulp. Suddenly she realized the men were all staring at her. 

"What?" she asked. 

"You...never seemed to have much of a stomach for liquor before," Rand told her. 

She shrugged. "I guess I didn't remember that." 

"That's not a bad thing, necessarily," Nero cackled. Toasting the others, he then also pounded his dragonwater, followed closely by Sten and Rand. One drink quickly turned into four or five, and by the time a very irritated Sorceress Bleu walked into the sitting room, all of the heroes were what Bow would describe as "three sheets to the wind." 

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "You were _supposed_ to report to me as soon as you returned." 

"Gee, Bleu," Sten said, "we just got here." 

"How long ago is 'just got here?'" 

"I dunno," Rand said blankly. "Maybe two hours?" 

Bleu sighed in exasperation. "All right, just tell me what happened." 

"Well," Sten began, "we looked in Nina in Coursair---" at this he ducked a dirty look from Rand, "---and then in Wyndia. No real leads there, so we went west to Capitan, where we made a startling discovery." 

Rand nodded. "There appears to be a new ruler there and the city has seceded from Wyndian rule. We discovered that Nina had become one of the Caliph's wives, and we later found out she had lost most of her memories." Rand thought he saw something of a guilty expression on Bleu's face at this, but it vanished almost as soon as it had come. 

"Right," Sten said. "Anyway, we rescued Nina and got out of the city---" 

"Decimating three of the Caliph's regiments in the process---" 

"Then escaped east---" 

"Sten dressed up like a woman---" 

"You didn't have to tell her _that_!" 

"And then we crushed another forty of the Caliph's troops---" 

"Nina remembered how to summon the Great Bird---" 

"Then we came back here." 

"I think that sums it up, Mister Marks," Sten said, looking proudly at his big companion. 

"Yes sir, Mister Sten," Rand agreed, shaking hands with the Highlander. 

As both men sat down to return to their drinking, Bleu slithered over to the counter, picked herself up a cup, then plopped it down on the table. "Make mine a double," she said. 

"Bleu?" Nero asked quizzically. 

"Aren't you going to see if you can restore Nina's mind?" Sten inquired. 

"I'll worry about it tomorrow," she said, gulping down ounces of dragonwater. "If what you've told me about the Caliph is true, we'll have a _lot_ of things to worry about tomorrow."  


**END**

  


  
  



End file.
